


Postcards from the Edge

by spikewriter



Series: A Symphony of Ten [21]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikewriter/pseuds/spikewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He used to be the one who traveled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postcards from the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Day Twenty-One of my 2009 Advent Calendar on LiveJournal and edited for posting here.

She sent him postcards from her travels. Some were traditional ones, cheerful scenes on pasteboard highlighting some appropriately touristy aspect of the location. Others were sent via email, photos she’d taken with a brief note. If he was coming home to an empty flat, finding one of those little cards in the box or a message in his email made the place seem less empty.

It felt strange to be the one living a bit vicariously through her travels. But when the first card arrived, shortly after he’d settled into the second bedroom of her London flat and she’d been called out to investigate something for Torchwood, the gesture of a card showing a picture-perfect English village in the Lake District with the words, _It’s nowhere near as fun running without you_ , scrawled on the back, had warmed his single heart. As they’d slowly found their way, the cards became a habit, Rose trying to send one for every day she was gone. Most of the messages were simple – _Having a wonderful time. Not._ or  _Wish you were here._ – things she could easily commit to print without fear of it being read and misinterpreted by others. When they fought once before she left, yet another heated discussion about Torchwood, its methods and mission, the picture of a Cornish sunset with two words on the back – _I’m sorry_ – was the sweetest thing in the world.

He could have gone with her. Pete had made it quite clear to him that he could write his own ticket with Torchwood if he agreed to be part of the team and share his knowledge. Pete was also smart enough to know when not to push, which was why the Doctor was currently enjoying a state of the art lab at Vitex Electronics, complete with a small staff of assistants to terrorize with his brilliance. For now it was enough, but when he saw those postcards, he could feel the wanderlust hit him. It wasn’t just traveling, though; he and Rose did try to run away some weekends, even if all of Jackie’s attempts at arranging a romantic getaway seemed to end in disaster. He’d even taken off by himself, sometimes for business and sometimes, especially in the early days, just to get some quiet to clear his head so he could try to figure out if they were truly heading for a disaster with one another.

They’d survived the bumps and now the lust to travel was the longing to see this world through his new eyes, Rose’s hand in his. Perched on a stool at his workbench in the lab, he couldn't help glancing over at the postcards pinned to the board on the wall. Rome, Johannesburg, Geneva -- all sounded much more exciting than poking about with his electronic bits. He'd told Rose the night they'd met that he didn't do domestics, but that was precisely what he was doing with this. His feet curled under the rungs of the stool as he contemplated the urge to just walk out the door and do something else. Maybe he should talk to Pete about working at home -- except, with Rose away at the moment, it'd mean he likely wouldn't speak to anyone all day long. She really would prefer if he didn't repeat the Incident of the Pizza Boxes.

But here he was, eyeing the postcards enviously, wondering how he could throw this all over and head off to Japan where Rose was currently on assignment. He was hoping for another when he got home, but it'd be small comfort until word came she was on her way back and that'd only happened when Rose was able to let him know. Torchwood wouldn't keep him informed; he didn't have the clearance. He could always ask Pete, but there was something in that which made him feel somehow inadequate. But then, he'd never liked being reliant on others for information.

Speaking of Pete, his computer dinged, the tone that signaled an incoming message. Most of the time, the Doctor simply allowed email pile up, but a few people had been assigned a sound that let him know he should pay attention. Hoping maybe it was word about Rose, he levered himself up and ambled over to the desk.

The email wasn't from Pete. When he'd first set up his work email, he'd programmed Rose's Torchwood email to sound with that same, insistent tone. Only she'd never emailed him with that address. When she was in London, she'd call or text him from her phone; when she was in the field, she maintained radio silence with anyone not necessary to the mission.

Wondering what was up, he opened the email and found a photo of the shrine at Gozengamine Peak on Mount Haku. Beneath it were the words, _Not sure if it's a genuine Japanese ghost or something like the Gelth. I hate to ask, but do you think you can help? Rose._

He could just email her back, ask her what she needed. Or...

The decision took only a moment and he was out the door and toward the elevator to the Executive Floor.

# # #

Rose stood on Gozengamine Peak and looked out over the fluffy white clouds that shielded the valley below from view. She hadn't really needed the Doctor's help but she'd sent word before they left Kyoto because what they'd been pursuing kept reminding of that Christmas in Cardiff when he'd worn another face. Remembering how badly that had nearly ended, she figured she'd asked, even knowing how he felt about Torchwood. There'd been a message back -- _I'm working on it_ \-- then nothing.

Maybe it was too soon. Torchwood had helped her survived when she'd come to this world, given her a something to do besides curl up in a big ball of pain, but that hadn't been his experience. All the progress they'd made, there were still things to things they had to overcome.

"Taichō was the first to climb Mount Haku in 717 CE -- or at least he did in our world. Not sure about here; have to look that up at some point, I suppose. But given the presence of that shrine, I would imagine folks have been making their way up here to offer prayers for centuries."

His voice was delightfully cheerful and a welcome sound to her ears. Turning, she discovered the Doctor coming toward her. No suit today, but jeans and a dark turtleneck beneath a leather jacket more cropped and fitted than when she'd first met him, but hands shoved into his pockets as always. "You came."

He smiled. "Of course I did. You asked." Closing the distance between them, he reached out to take her hand in his. "It's all you've ever had to do."


End file.
